


The Inconvenience of Paradoxes

by hampshire_eatonbeck_the_third



Series: The Inconvenience of Paradox [1]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Original Characters - Freeform, WHAT A BABE, Weeping Angels - Freeform, evil witch - Freeform, gotta have some of that biromantic asexuality wooo, i'm trying to make an asexual doctor, jack my love, maybe inaccurate maybe not who knowssssss, maybe romantically linked to the master and the doctor, oR POLY WHO KNOWSSSS, or panromantic who knows wooooo, originally created regeneration of the doctor, probs so much ooc woooooooo, science and stuff maybe, the creature of london
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-21 23:01:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6061404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hampshire_eatonbeck_the_third/pseuds/hampshire_eatonbeck_the_third
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor is captured by a Witch draped with stars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Inconvenience of Paradoxes

**Author's Note:**

> This is a side story to Creature of London to explore more the character of the Doctor in this original reincarnation.
> 
> Timeline-wise, before Creature of London.

She thought, "Make it out alive."

The Doctor gritted her teeth. The white room was cold and empty, apart from her.

Her legs were starting to ache, twitching like they were going to fold under her at any moment. Her arms were strung up by plasma-energy shackles. She could escape, if she wanted, by dropping her arms through the plasma half of the rings and running. But, then she would lose her hands. The heat of the plasma warned her wrists to stay put, pushing against the metal half of the shackles lest her skin draws near to the energy and gets shaved. Tempting as this escape idea was, it was shelved as Plan B.

Plan A was forever keeping her eyes open. 

Wide open.

No matter how tired they became.

No matter how sore they grew.

No matter how much they wept.

"Keep them open, keep it back, keep them open, keep it back," she chanted to herself.

The Angel stared.

After ten seconds of keeping her eyes open, the Doctor was doing well. She even hummed. Everything was fine, all fine.

After thirty seconds, the urge was steadily growing but manageable.

After a minute, she shed her first tear. The Doctor made a noise of frustration. 

After two minutes, she stomped her feet, she clicked her fingers, she made popping sounds with her mouth - all to try and distract herself from blinking. 

After three minutes, she felt that her eyeballs were going to drop out.  
  
After four minutes, the Doctor could not take it any more. Her heart was racing. This was it: surrender.

As if sensing this, the Witch of Embloon cloaked in violet and stars came in with a flourish. Carried in her arms was a full-length mirror. She had come through a door that rose upwards. It previously looked like a part of the wall, with no lines to distinguish what was door or not. As it came upwards, it would make a churning, mechanical sound.

The Witch placed the mirror in front of the Angel.

The Doctor blew a sigh of relief. She almost dropped to her knees - then she jolted upright: plasma.  
  
"Finally! Excellent timing. I would clap but, as you would know, my hands a bit restrained."  
  
The Witch chuckled. "You stood longer than the rest of them," she observed and smiled. "Literally." Her eyes seemed gentle, but her mind was cunning.

The Doctor knew who _them_ were: the soldiers. She had to keep at bay a shadow that would have crossed her face and overwhelm the mask that she was trying hard to upkeep.

She gave a sniff of confidence. "Embloon, huh?" said the Doctor, smiling with her plump lips. 

"Yes."

The witch folded her arms and leant one elbow on the Angel. She was careful that it did not pull off the blanket from its head.All three of her clear eyes were small, her voice shrewd, and her skin aged.  She had spindly hands with translucent, pale skin. Her veins were blue and bulged out. Her dress, which was silver in colour and gilded with more stars, had daggered sleeves. An actual dagger hung at her belt. That too, similarly to her cloak and dress, was engraved with stars.  
  
"I can tell by your get-up that you really like stars," said the Doctor. "Embloon's one, right?"  
  
The Witch had a thin-lipped smile. Laughter-lines popped out in bold creases. "Indeed, it is."    
  
"Must be very hot."  
  
"In my other form, I can stand it."

The Doctor felt like she said that as if to intimidate her. The Doctor had the urge to casually rustle her coils in a way that made her look unaffected. But - plasma.  
  
"Nice, nice -"  
  
"Do you want to just idle chit-chat or are you going to tell me where the map is now?"  
  
The Doctor allowed herself to glare, purely in defiance.

"I ..." she threw back her head and clicked her tongue, "might just prefer the former."  
  
"Then I will leave you to the Angel."  
  
A great hand squeezed the Doctor's stomach in dread, and fear.

The Witch was about to turn away, to remove the mirror. The Doctor could sense the growing anticipation of the Angel, who covered its eyes.

Then, suddenly, the churning sound of the door. The Doctor looked up.

  
There stood in flesh the Doctor's image.

***

 

Behind her was tall, winking Jack, pointing a gun right into the Witch's face even though he looked right after the Doctor who was chained up. The moment she saw the second Doctor, the Witch stopped short in shock.  
  
"Hi, gorgeous -" he said to the Doctor, then turned to the Witch, "-es."  
  
The Doctor grinned. "Hi, Jack."  
  
In deep thought, the second Doctor messed with her great red afro. She strutted past the trembling Witch, who had her lips pursued in shock and indignation. All the while she was quiet. The Doctor and her double shared a smile. She used the screwdriver to wipe clean the shackles' batteries. In a blink the plasma vanished.  
  
"Finally!" the Doctor said, filled with gratitude to herself.  
  
The Doctor did squats. She cried to her double with a sigh, "My golly, I love me! High-five!" 

The second Doctor coolly accepted it. They clasped hands. 

"Double the trouble! Boom!" the Doctor added, her afro bobbing with enthusiasm. Her double stared, and shook her head. The Doctor's over-eagerness dropped like a balloon deflating. "What the hell happened, Me? We used to be cool - like two seconds ago -"  
  
The Witch cut her off: "What is going on!" She stuck her hand out to gesture to the double. "How did this happen!"

With great confidence, the Doctor stepped straight up to her so closely that they were nose-to-nose. "Time paradox, Witch! Double the trouble! This just became your worst day _ever_ -" The Doctor stopped. In her mind, a pin dropped. Out of her energy, realisation had hit her. Though, she hoped it was not so. Surely. She looked back to her double, and did the math. She looked over the Witch's shoulder to Jack. "That doesn't mean ..." Jack grimaced. She turned slowly around to her double, who had remained ever-silent. "That doesn't mean of us has to d-"

Her double nodded.  
  
The Witch cackled. The Doctor pulled a face that was more of annoyance at the great inconvenience of death than anything.   
  
"Aw, golly."

 

 


End file.
